


Let Go

by ElizabethWilde



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Phone Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:25:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethWilde/pseuds/ElizabethWilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time Gil Grissom received his third call of the morning that consisted of heavy breathing and awkward silence, he began to feel that his plans for a quiet end to a hectic night weren’t going to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the Grissom Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.livejournal.com/community/grisslash/. Sadly, finished WAY after the deadline. Like, a couple years after.

By the time Gil Grissom received his third call of the morning that consisted of heavy breathing and awkward silence, he began to feel that his plans for a quiet end to a hectic night weren’t going to happen. “Wrong number,” he informed the man flatly before snapping the phone shut. //I should stop answering,// he thought with a sigh. If the stream of misinformed, lonely people gave way to something important, however, Grissom knew that he would hate himself for not picking up. 

Again, the phone rang. Again he picked it up, ready with the pat rejection he had adopted after the first two. “Yes?”

“Uh, hi. I’m, um… this is Big Jim, right?”

“Not quite.” //That voice… it can’t be…//

“Oh. Um. This is the number that was on the card.” Gil heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “God, your voice…”

“My voice?” //Why haven’t I hung up yet?// he wondered desperately. If the voice belonged to who he thought it did, that only made the move tactically more stupid.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s perfect.” Apparently gaining a bit more confidence, the man added, “Better than I thought. Closer.”

//Closer to what?// “What’s your name?”

A brief pause and then, “Nick.”

“Nice name.” //And not yours.// The choice of alternative monikers sealed the deal. It was Greg. //So why am I still playing this game?// He was pretty sure they were both only going to be horribly embarrassed if he didn’t hang up, but the phone remained clutched in his hand just the same.

“Mom liked it.” Another brief stretch of awkward silence and then, “So… how do we…?”

“What is it you’re looking for?” //Why am I asking?// Gil decided vaguely that he was giddy from lack of sleep, not that he felt particularly tired. It simply seemed the most rational explanation for slowly wading into phone sex with an attractive, much younger male co-worker. Perfectly logical if the giddiness was taken into account.

“I just want to… to hear you.” Despite his hesitance, Greg had obviously thought the matter through before. He sounded certain if unsteady when he started in again. “I want to hear what you want.”

“What I want?” Caught a bit off-guard by the request, Gil knew he’d sounded a bit too surprised. //Not playing the part very well, am I?//

“Yeah.” The voice on the other end gained more confidence with each word. Apparently he took strength from the hesitance instead of being put off. “I mean, I know you don’t really know what he… Just make something up. Nice little office quickie?”

“Sounds reasonable.” Gil caught himself just short of starting in before asking, “What kind of office?”

“Lab. Uh, but, you… uh… he… it’s just a regular office. Mostly.”

//I suppose the tarantulas add something extra to the atmosphere.// “Alright. I’ve asked you to come to the office at the end of shift. No one will be looking for us.”

Apparently the words were right because Gil heard a contented sigh on the other end of the line. “Yeah…”

“We don’t have time to talk. I kiss you…” Unraveling the inner workings of a crime with words was one thing. Trying to verbally seduce someone was another, and Gil hardly considered himself a Cassanova.

A soft whisper, “And then?”

“And then I leave your lips alone. There are other things I want to know first. Take off your shirt.” He heard the rustle of fabric that signaled compliance and felt his own confidence spike as he found himself picturing the image clearly despite having no real reference. “I want to learn the spots that you like best. I start with your neck-“

“Ticklish,” came the immediate reply, a smile in the words.

“Good to know. I move up to your ear, then and on to your jawline… what do you want right now?”

“Kiss me again.”

“Alright.” Gil found himself getting as lost as Greg in the images running through his head. “You taste like coffee.” Too telling a comment, perhaps, but it could be thought a lucky guess.

“So d’you,” came the immediate response. “Y’know, I could stand to be wearing less pants too. And maybe you don’t so much need that shirt.”

“Valid observation.” Gil held the phone against his ear with one shoulder while he removed his shirt. Sitting half-naked in the living room left him feeling oddly exposed given the circumstances. //Power of imagination. I’m not *in* the living room.// Of course, being in the office seemed even more odd. Gil was soundly distracted from the problem when he heard the zipper of Greg’s jeans sliding down. “Much better.”

“I thought so. Apparently it was a good day to forget to do laundry. Who needs underwear anyway, right?”

Gil had to fight back sage commentary about the danger of zippers without a protective cotton barrier, unable to bring himself to disparage such a lovely mental image. “Afraid I haven’t quite kicked the habit.” After taking a breath to dispel a sudden bout of nerves at the thought of being naked in front of the younger man, which led to Gil reminding himself that he wasn’t really there despite his earlier claims, Gil unfastened and slid off his own pants.

“Nice. Hey… what kinda underwear?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but nothing terribly interesting. Cotton briefs.”

Gil heard laughter from the other end of the line, amused but not derisive. “I kinda figured boxers, but that’s cool. Those should stop being on too.”

“Your wish…” Thankful for the afghan thrown over the couch making it warmer, Gil settled back down. “I think we have more important things to worry about than clothing now. I want to touch you.”

The words seemed to set the mood again, and the voice that came back sounded breathless again, “God, I want that too. So hard for you…” Greg’s voice caught, and there was a shaky moan. “How do you wanna touch me?” Before Gil had begun formulating an answer, he hurried on, “Can I sit on your lap?”

If the image of Greg naked and straddling his lap hadn’t been so hot, Gil might have laughed at the abrupt question. Instead he agreed, “It’s all yours.” He let himself imagine he could feel the muscular thighs spread across his own and the hard cock brushing against his and couldn’t help groaning at the image. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah.” The words were almost strangled, and Gil heard a click. Greg had set the phone down. The tinny ring of speakerphone accompanied the next words. “Are you hard?”

Too far gone to worry about blushing, Gil rumbled, “Yes. Can’t you feel me? Scoot in a little tighter.” He imagined filling his hands with Greg’s ass and dragging him in close so that they were rubbing together. The image left him stroking his cock almost absently while Greg panted on the other end of the line. “Feel it now?”

“Yes!” The increased enthusiasm made Gil wonder what sort of help Greg might be getting. Rubbing against the couch? His hand? “What do you want?”

For a moment Gil suspected he hadn’t been heard, but finally a shaky whisper came back, “Just… this. I just want to look at you… while I… god, I wish you could touch me.”

“I am. I’m holding you so you don’t fall. You can do anything you want right now. It’s just us.” The words flowed readily. Gil wanted things to progress as much as Greg, and he knew exactly how messy that might be the next day or the day after. “Don’t worry about anything but getting what you need.”

Gil heard the pop of a cap opening and then the unmistakable sound of a slick hand on slick flesh. The image made him grip himself tighter. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“Not me,” Greg murmured. He sounded less lucid and far more unfocused than before. “You. You’re… touching me…”

“That’s right. I am.” He was touching himself too, stroking, too rough and too hard without proper lube, but he wasn’t going to stop. 

The words on the other end of the line had trailed off into needy whines. Greg panted and murmured a few things about how badly he needed it. “Are you… are you gonna cum with me?” he panted. 

“I’m just waiting for you. You tell me when.” He listened to the sounds of heavy breathing and Greg jerking himself off and almost came despite his promise to wait. “I’m close.”

The words earned him a sharp gasp. “I-I’m-” Gil heard a throaty groan followed by stuttering breaths. “I’m cumming… cumming for you…”

Gil let go his own control, giving himself a few additional strokes that brought him to a sharp resolution. It wasn’t until he heard every sound on the other end of the line stop that he realized what a stupid mistake he’d made. He had moaned a name. He had moaned the right name at the absolute wrong time. 

The silence stretched out until it was broken by, “Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit!” 

“Greg, stop-”

“SHIT!”

“Greg, take a breath.” He heard a few shaky inhales and exhales, then something a bit more like a normal breath. “I should have said something, and I’m sorry.”

Greg laughed like a maniac. “You’re… you just… we just… Do you know what we just did?”

Gil had the good grace to blush, not that Greg could tell. “We had phone sex.”

“We had phone sex. On the phone. Us.”

“Right.”

“That’s not… people don’t do that with their bosses.”

“People also don’t call phone sex lines and ask someone to pretend to be their bosses. Not unless there’s-”

“Shit.” Greg groaned on the other end of the line. “Yes, okay, maybe I was… it’s this fantasy, okay? I mean, you know that. Obviously you know that. You’re just so… you’re so smart, and it’s hot as hell.”

The words were actually disappointing in a strange way. Gil knew he sounded slightly dejected as he asked, “That’s all?”

“What’s all?”

“Just a fantasy? I can hang the phone up, and we can pretend this never happened.” Between them the silence stretched out. It became a tight, tense line between them, and as much as it hurt, Gil didn’t really want to hang up and end it because he didn’t particularly want things to go back to normal. The idea of actually touching Greg had gone from foreign to pleasant somewhere in the course of the previous half hour. “Or we could go out for coffee and talk about it.”

Greg sucked in a harsh breath. “We can?”

“We can.”

“The coffee thing, then. Definitely the coffee thing.” 

Smiling with the sharp and sudden relief, Gil smiled. “Then I’ll see you at the coffee shop by your place in an hour.”

“I’ll see you there.”

Gil was still smiling when he set the phone down.


End file.
